A Reflection on My Time in History of Jazz

Coming into History of Jazz, I carried the assumption that it would be a class covering jazz purely from a musical standpoint, it’s superstars and its different forms over time. And while these topics were certainly covered, the class was more interestingly—and more importantly—about much more than that. It was about the history of jazz within the greater context of 20th century life, and more specifically, a dialogue of race relations in America. As Miles Davis states in his autobiography, White influence in jazz was a pervasive problem to many Black musicians, and Davis himself “hate[d] how white people always [tried] to take credit for something after they discover[ed] it” [Davis, 55]. Indeed, in any true account of the history of jazz there will be a through line of racial dynamics, and one of my biggest takeaways from the class will be a more thorough understanding of the way in which interracial relations played a significant role in both the commercialization and musical evolution of jazz.

A national market for jazz came about with the advent of radio in the 20s. By the end of the decade, radio sales “had skyrocketed to over $850 million” per year, and the effects of this new phenomenon were felt in the jazz industry [Gioia, 128]. With such an expansive market, the business of jazz exploded, but the recording and broadcasting industries were controlled by White businessmen. This gave Whites an unprecedented level of leverage over the Black musicians, for the nature of radio necessitated only a relatively small number of bands to entertain a nationwide audience. Whites controlled the commercialized supply of jazz, and their capitalistic influence was present in the most popular form of jazz at the time, Swing, which contained simple riffs, accessible vocals, and commercial danceability. Before I took History of Jazz, I was completely unaware of the racial nuance involved in jazz’s commercial emergence. Now, I understand the way in which the hegemonic role of Whites in America was present and pervasive in jazz’s development. 

History of Jazz also imparted on me knowledge of the way in which race underscored the emergence of Bebop following jazz’s Swing Era, and the way in which racial dynamics shaped the evolution of the jazz from a formal musical standpoint. Swing was jazz at its most accessible, with huge commercial appeal and a wide, national audience. Bebop was a subversion of this style of jazz, a reclamation of the music by its Black members that “rebelled against the populist trappings of swing music” [Gioia, 187]. This new style was less accessible, and instead was characterized by a fast, attacking tempo, a dissonant harmony, and complex rhythms. Bebop was an incredibly racially dialogical music, it was the style of the marginalized musician struggling to find individuality and respect strictly through musical merit. This style was an aesthetic of urban life, the fast, dissonant pace reflecting life within American metropolises. This emphasis on sheer talent and improvisational virtuosity led to the emergence of some of jazz’s greatest legends such as Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, previous sidemen in large Swing bands. Bebop came as the the marginalization of Blacks in greater American society was being fought against in an especially strong way, during the era immediately antecedent to the Civil Rights Movement which would create landmark legislation recognizing the rights of Black Americans. The music was a microcosm of the Civil Rights Movement in and of itself; it was Blacks paving their own way in American society, fighting against White control and oppression, to achieve a sense of control and establish a new standard of excellence within jazz. History of Jazz has taught me the way in which dynamics of race impart their influence on the musical growth of jazz during the 20th century, with Black expression and individuality finding its way to prominence through Bebop. 

That race played such a crucial role in the commercial and musical growth of jazz tells a larger story about the History of Jazz as a dialogue about American society. Coming into the class, I had completely underestimated the ability of music to communicate societal dynamics, but the power of this art form to provide a tangible aesthetic of life in this country testifies to the importance of this music’s history to American history as a whole. The imparting of this knowledge has been incredibly powerful in the way in which it has altered my attitudes regarding the capacity of music to represent the dynamism of our society, and for that, I am grateful. 

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Jazz in the Community and the Community in Jazz: Thelonious Monk, San Juan Hill, and Leimert Park

The childhood of Thelonious Monk was characterized by his immersion, involvement, and growth in the tight knit San Juan Hill neighborhood. San Juan Hill was a small neighborhood located on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, but it contained a richness of community that made it “a small town unto itself” (Kelley, 35). Monk’s formative years were greatly influenced by this community and the exposure to various people, cultures, and experiences that it afforded him. For Monk, “the neighborhood was the center of his social universe” (Kelley, 32). There was the Columbus Hill Community Center, where Monk, his siblings, and his friends would spend their time hanging out—it was “a true center of social life for black youth in the neighborhood” (Kelley, 28). Indeed, it was the Friday night dances at the Community Center where a teenage Monk and his first band had their most important gigs, where “they had a good time and always received an enthusiastic response” (Kelley, 37). Much of Monk’s early exposure to music came from his experiences within the community. He would watch his mother sing at church services and one of his early music instructors was a woman named Alberta Simmons, “a local jazz musician who had the greatest impact on Thelonious’s early development” (Kelley, 27).

Music often has that adhesive effect on a community. Both San Juan Hill and Leimert Park shared that quality, and it helped both neighborhoods develop a strong community bond despite the adversity they faced. The two places had seen their share of violence, much of it stemming from racial tensions. During the early 20th century, San Juan Hill “was famous for its race riots,” including one notorious riot in 1917 in which “over 2,000 people took part in indiscriminate fighting” (Kelley, 17). And in Leimert Park, rising crime as well as the 1992 Rodney King riots caused damage to the predominantly black neighborhood. But to characterize these neighborhoods by these instances of violence would be a disservice to the strong sense of community and culture that these neighborhoods forged. Like San Juan Hill, Leimert Park was incredibly tight knit, and music was a shared experience that would bring various people within the neighborhood together. Thelonious Monk had places where he could have a shared musical experiences with those within San Juan Hill—places such as the Columbus Hill Community Center, and even his apartment, which was a “popular hangout…for many of the young neighborhood musicians” (Kelley, 32). In Leimert Park, there’s 5th Street Dick’s and The World Stage, where music and art is used as a focal point for community. With neighborhoods such as Leimert Park and San Juan Hill, crime, violent histories, and adverse conditions are overcome by the deeper, stronger connections of music, culture, and community. 

I don’t think I can make any definitive, universal statements with regards to the relationship between musicians and their respective communities—each relationship is so unique, so personal. But what I will say is that neighborhoods which foster identities of close community and strong culture create good conditions for the growth and development of a jazz musician. Jazz is often understood as an aesthetic of urban life, trying to find the rhythm within the dissonance, and the individuality within the collaboration. So in the quote “Jazz is New York, Man!?,” New York could easily be replaced with Leimert Park. Jazz is an expression of community, it is music that reflects experiences and influences, and with the work of Thelonious Monk, we see not only the effects of San Juan Hill, but the very life of the neighborhood itself. 


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